


Judas Kiss

by JustAWeirdoHi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 19:30:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18971590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAWeirdoHi/pseuds/JustAWeirdoHi
Summary: The Seven Kingdoms are finally hers. Her plans seem unstoppable.





	Judas Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a way to cope with season 8.

The world was made of ash, because she willed it.  
Her enemies laid broken and defeated, because she willed it.  
The Seven Kingdoms were now hers, because she willed it.

All her life, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen had found a way to survive. Since she was a child, she survived without real purpose, only living under the abusive reign of her elder brother.  
Since being married off to a man she did not want to marry, she survived. When she lost him and everything she worked for, she survived. From there she only grew.

Her purpose was solidified.  
It was her duty to rule the home that was stolen from her family. To bring peace and justice to so many lives deprived of it.

That was her mission, the reason for her birth. It was something her brother could never accomplish. It was up to her.

Her entire journey lead up to this moment.  
No matter the loss, no matter how bent and twisted it became, and no matter the cost, Daenerys made it.

Losing all those she loved was the price.  
It wasn't until the bells rung that it sunk in.  
King's Landing surrendered.  
But it didn't really.

The moment clouded her judgement, grief and pain taking over.

But as the city burned to the ground, as many perished beneath dragonfire and brick, as the land became cloaked in ash, a sudden calm overtook her.

She knew they only rung the bells out of initial fear, but like the North, they would've never accepted her.

This was the only way to ensure her victory.  
Now, she'd bend everything to her will, there would be no more setbacks, no more mercy that only cost her.  
Fear, hesitation, it was burned away like most of King's Landing.

She was playing the game of thrones, and she won.

It didn't matter that Tyrion committed treason against her, she'd be rid of him. And her true reign would begin.

It was like her vision in the House of the Undying.

But it was never snow.

Her footsteps made a muted tap as she moved, wide violet eyes glued to the thing she fought all her life for, what she survived trial after trial for.

The Iron Throne.

It was smaller than she imagined, more neatly put together. She's never seen it, but she knew that was it. Knew this was her birthright.

Her heart soared, radiant with excitement and joy that everything wasn't for nothing. All those difficulties paid off. Her survival lead to this.  
Daenerys knew, in order to keep this dream, she needed bend the entire world to her will.

As the young queen reached out, fingertips grazing the throne, she accepted what had to be done.

Before she became too lost in thought, Jon Snow had entered the ruined castle.  
When seeing him, the royal just smiled.

Despite his heritage, despite him being the last male heir to House Targaryen, she didn't care anymore. She loved him. The Seven Kingdoms were hers now. There was no reason for it to be a threat.

In fact, she was willing to take him as her king, and she his queen. The world they were going to build together, it was going to be beautiful. No one would suffer, lives and families would thrive. With him by her side, she knew it would soon become a reality.

But as Daenerys addressed him, she was taken aback by his words.  
He was angry with her. He wanted her to spare Tyrion.  
But that wasn't an option. She couldn't go back to how it was, and lose everything she had sacrificed so much to gain.

Daenerys was certain he'd understand, love in her gaze as they spoke. He was perfect. They were going to be perfect rulers.

As their lips connected, she shut her eyes, enjoying the texture, warmth. She always loved the warm. It was kind, inviting. It was home.

What followed was a searing, sharp pain in her heart, one so intense it made her break the kiss.

Pulling away, she was flooded with confusion, glancing down at her chest, then at Jon. She saw it, but she could barely process it.  
He had stuck a blade directly into her sternum.

Heartbreak washed across her features.  
Her strength was draining from her body, unable to keep upright.

As Jon held her, she could only wonder why.  
Why would he do this? Their lives were just truly beginning. Their beautiful world within grasp. She held all the love and trust she could ever have in him. And now, it was all slipping away.

That warmth was gone.  
Now it was cold.  
Coldness spreading from her limbs and into her midsection. As her heartbeat slowed down, the world went dark, and cold.

-

Within the void of nothingness, a small warmth began to slither across her body. Spreading from her chest, and into her arms and legs. It was numb, unmovable, but slowly, blood pumped through her arteries. Heat ran all over her body. It was comforting.

There was gentle snaps and cracks, the sound of flames consuming wood.

Through a wheeze, a deep gasp would barely fill her lungs.

Darkness melted away as she slowly opened her eyes, nothing but bright orange engulfing her vision.

Before she realised what was transpiring, she found herself coughing, trembling hands grasping at her torso as if searching for the last pain she felt. But there was nothing there. Nothing but a sealed stab wound.

Forcing herself to sit up, pain radiated across her stiff body. She felt like stone, cracking with each movement. Her clothes were gone, and she had been laid in a bed of fire.

Through her fuzzy vision, her surroundings slowly came to view. She was indoors she believed. But she couldn't tell if it was a hut or stone room, images blurring together. Before she could think too much, she heard the sound of a dragon screeching into the air.  
With that, she fell back, the world growing dark again.

Daenerys wasn't sure how much time had passed, but her eyes would flutter open once more, this time meeting a stone wall.

Soft fabric was wrapped around her, the Targaryen's sight clearing.  
Turning on to her side, she saw a raging fireplace partially obscured by furniture.  
Sitting beside it in an old, polished wooden chair, was another woman. Her face was hidden by a silk cloth, but the skin exposed a deep hazelnut. It was hard to tell the shade of her eyes due to the flames that illuminated the room, but they looked black. And her hair seemed to be a deep, ginger red.

"You are finally awake, child of fire."  
The woman spoke as Daenerys focused on her.

It took several moments of confusion before the royal attempted to sit up and speak.  
"What.. What happened..?"  
Her palm ran across her face, headache pounding her skull.

"Only you know that."  
The stranger responded, returning her gaze to the fire.

There was a pause. It could've been seconds, minutes, hours. She didn't know, but she remembered. She remembered what happened.

"He... Stabbed me..."  
That was right. The man she was ready to marry, had thrusted his blade into her as they kissed.  
"My kingdom??!"  
Her deep sadness shifted to fright, but then, to anger.

"No kingdom is yours. Nothing is yours anymore. The dead don't own."  
The other woman spoke so calmly, Stormborn shaking as resentful tears flooded down her cheeks.

"He... Killed me..."  
Her fingers curled into her messy silver locks, chest heaving as her free hand felt over the blade's mark.

"I... I will get my kingdom back, I will burn him, I will burn everything to the ground, I will burn the whole world DOWN!!!"  
Daenerys trembled with rage, screams hissing through her teeth.

Her dream was right there, she had won. And the one she loved was the one that took it from her. Is this what love does? It made her weak, vulnerable, and this was the result.

"Are you so ready to die again? If that's as you wish, I won't stop you. But I won't help again if you go running off so eager to meet your demise."  
Although irritated by the younger woman's bout of anger, she understood how that would be her initial reaction.

Hearing her voice was enough to snap Daenerys out of her spell, attention now back to her.  
She just stared at the other woman, wondering what her role was. Did she do this?

"Did you.. Bring me back?"  
She held her breath.

"I did."  
The lady answered, as calm as can be.

"Why?"  
She questioned, tone vexed. There was no one she could trust, no one had noble intentions. No one did things out of the goodness of their hearts.

"When your dragon was born, it brought magic back into the world."

As she began to speak, the Targaryen rapidly blinked, looking around as if desperately searching for Drogon, worrying for his safety.

"I was just repaying what was given."  
The witch had no care in politics, or wars. But living dragons strengthened the magic sorcerers had, and as a thank you, she did what she believed would please the creature.

"I need to go, I need to get back the Iron Throne."  
Stormborn didn't understand, nor did she care anymore. She could only think about getting back what was taken.

"Doing that now wouldn't be a wise move."  
She wouldn't stop Dany from leaving, but she'd speak her mind before she did.

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Stay in hiding as my enemies live and happily keep what they stole from me?!"  
Her breathing was audible, barely containing herself. Of course she couldn't think of anything else.

There was no sound, but Dany could practically sense the witch sighing.

"No. Not hide."  
The redhead spoke, turned her attention to the irate female, stoic gaze as she held out her hand. Within her palm, a small flame grew and flickered, her dark fingers unharmed. The light reflected in Dany's wide, amethyst eyes.

"Learn."

For Daenerys, it would all be about survival again.

**Author's Note:**

> I can dream.


End file.
